Compromising Concupiscence
by Lady Androgene
Summary: OT5 a.k.a AtoFujiRyoSanaTezu The boys deal with clashing opinions regarding their more exploitive physical activities. Various first person POV. DISCONTINUED
1. Chapter 1: Angsting Over Uke

Title: Compromising Concupiscence

Rating: PG-13 (is subject to change but not for the cleaner)

Genre: Humor

Status: 1?

Pairing: OT5 (AtoFujiRyoSanaTezu)

Summary: The boys deal with clashing opinions regarding their more exploitive physical activities. And Ryoma thinks he's the ultimate seme. Uh-oh. Various first person POV.

Warnings: Weird inner monologues, bit of OOC, language, mention of real-life historical figures, obscene amounts of pervines (hello, just look at the title)

A/N: My end of the deal between me and kasugai gummie, who birthed this wonderful crack and got me hooked in it. The arrangement of the pairing is not according to seme status (good lord NO) but it is significant. Read and find out.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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**Compromising Concupiscence**

By Lady Androgene

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**Chapter 1: Angsting Over Uke **

**Ryoma**

Life is fucking _unfair._

I'm tired of being continuously denied to take the reins just ONCE, as if making me seme was synonymous to having my boyfriends impregnated.

I'm tired of being treated as if I have a perpetual sign on my forehead that says "I Am The Most Fuckable Creature On Earth, Come Abuse Me."

I'm so fucking tired, of being the adorable, indisputable, ULTIMATE _uke._

As a strapping young man in the pink of health, YES, most of my frustrations stem from primal, visceral needs and the lack of satisfaction for such primal, visceral needs.

But bear with me.

Relationships are supposed to be give and take (take, being in the more wholesome context) but being always on the receiving end is NOT fun. And it's not FUNNY either. There are FOUR of them, for the love of god. I can kick and scream and lash out as many death threats to kill my boyfriends ten times and over but that's not gonna get me very far. 

And what is the justification of my loving boyfriends for this act of blatant prejudice? Oh, just one fact of monumental importance: I'm the youngest, the smallest and the "cutest" member of this convoluted five-way relationship of ours. As if that explained anything. Talk about a non-sequitur.

Well you know what? They're wrong. I have every right to be seme. So I'm going to set the record straight. But first, a little background.

The five of us, Monkey King, Buchou, Genchirou, Syuusuke and I have been together since high school, which should tell you that while the concept of five boys shacking up in a serious relationship is utterly ridiculous, it happened. And I'll admit that it was raging teenage hormones that brought us together. Yeah, SEX.

In high school, we had enough sex to earn us prime spots in the executive board of Hedonists Anonymous or some similar organization. Not to sound nostalgic or anything but those were the days, where academic concepts such as _homework_, _disciplinary sanctions_, and _physical education_ took on a whole new meaning. It was fun for the most part. I mean, if it weren't for us, who would have known that artic bricks like Buchou and Genchirou are capable of getting a hard-on?

Then college came and we had been demoted to the metaphorical medium stockholders. We tried to make our schedules fit but there were extracurriculars that got in the way. Buchou's and my tennis, Syuusuke's photography, Monkey King's frequent trips abroad and even more frequent parlor appointments (he owns the word "metrosexual"), Genchirou's kendo… all of them took their toll in the relationship. There wasn't time to complain but Keigo had been especially irked by the fact that his efforts to beautify himself had lost several battles against homework.

And, now that the four of them are working and I'm stuck in college, we've been reduced to the metaphorical janitor status. It's that bad.

Well, bad in terms of five-way sex. Standard one-to-one is plentiful. At least for me.

My ah, _lovers_ (I still cannot say that word without having the urge to cough because really, if they truly loved me, I wouldn't be complaining about uke-status right?) had been a little concerned about how I would fare in college without them to drive away the hordes of female fans that had followed me since junior high—and had since deigned to rip my clothes off on more than one occasion. My boyfriends still had their own fans—legions of them, but they can handle screaming confessions of love and marriage proposals way better than I can.

I'm the type of person who deals with bad things and good things the same way: I don't. I think the meanest thing I did to my fans was to let Keigo and Syuusuke deal with them. I didn't initially know HOW they did it, and to be frank, I really didn't care. At first.

Then Buchou mentioned something about severe emotional trauma and the perils of technology and I became suspicious. Incidentally, Syuusuke was suddenly brave about teasing me about how I would make a sell-out porn star with my feisty nature and ah, wonderful _vocalizations_ in bed.

Then Genchirou finally let the whole thing slip, one fateful afternoon, while I was cramming for a term paper, of all possible timings. To say that Satan himself would kneel before my furious countenance would be severely understating things.

Remind me to smash Keigo's cellphone/MP3 player/camera/_voice recorder_ to sorry little pieces when I get the chance.

That aside, however, there's still the problem of my "vulnerability," despite the diminished threat of my fanbase. There was still the rest of the gay community to watch out for. Not to mention invites from other established threesomes and foursomes. I can handle _them_ though. Hell, I could pretty much handle anything after putting up with four overbearing semes but said semes will have none of it. Even Buchou and Genchirou. Did I mention that I hate it when they treat me like I'm as breakable as wet Kleenex? They call it affectionate protection, I call it insecurity.

I knew they'd find a way to deal with this problem but of all the tricks they pulled, this had to be the worst. Well, the fangirl incident was probably worse than this, but this definitely ranks a perfect ten in the shit-o-meter.

The trick was Syuusuke in a really preppy polo, slacks, suede loafers and a lesson plan. Syuusuke posing as a part-time teacher of Psychology. And Psychology is, incidentally, a core subject that I had to take.

So he's my teacher. I should be really happy right? Like who wouldn't want to have his boyfriend as a professor?

That would be me. No, I am not happy. I am miserable. I feel like a victimized character in some B-rated hentai series.

Why am I reacting so violently to this? For the benefit of those who don't know Syuusuke, I could only summarize my fair-haired boyfriend's twisted psyche with this: Syuusuke was born with metaphorical horns on his head. Horns that progressively grow pointier and longer as he got older (Yuuta has prima facie evidence for this). When he met us, he slowly began to show signs of reform. And as we got to know each other better, the changes came in slow but sure dosages. And when we finally became a fivesome, his whole image totally changed.

He grew a fucking _tail_.

Now come tell me that I'm crazy not to want him as my teacher.

Syuusuke is so enjoying playing the role of my unneeded guardian / professor. Like hell my grades depend on whether or not I study, or how frequently I sleep in class. Not that I could, with Syuusuke staring at me and calling on me to make a recap of the lesson half the time. He justifies it by saying that I have the advantage of reviewing the lesson with him during class nights. As if I could remember concepts like id, ego and libido superego, when Syuusuke's running a paper fan up my thigh and telling me to bend over and grasp the teacher's desk like a good, obedient student or he'll give me an F on my next paper.

And to think I'm _paying_ ridiculous amounts of tuition fees for this.

But enough of my miserable college existence. The point is, Syuusuke's a sadistic creep and it sucks that there's nothing I can do about it. I swear, once this semester is over, someone's cacti collection will be losing some ten thousand thorns.

Right. Moving on, we have Monkey King, the other sex fiend. Unlike Syuusuke, who usually gets what he wants via underhanded set-ups, Keigo just says what he wants and gets it, regardless of whether we like it or not. And they call _me_ a brat.

Genchirou's tango lessons with him can attest to that. So are his and Buchou's trips abroad, since part of Buchou's budding career as a diplomat takes him to places, and Keigo arranges business affairs so that it would coincide with Buchou's trips.

And as for me? I've been coerced to reside in the Atobe mansion. So that makes me unlucky as well.

On a lighter note, when I'm with Buchou or Genchirou, things are pretty calm and definitely more wholesome, which is a relief. There are the occasional under-the-table escapades but other than that, I actually feel like a decent human being when I'm with those two.

So, when all's said and done, it makes for a very colorful sex life-- what with me living in Monkey King's house, Syuusuke making sure my nerves are sufficiently fried before tackling our lessons, and the five of us cooping up together during weekends.

Of course, we also have other concerns. Really, we're not a bunch of bunnies in perpetual mating season, even with the strength of evidence to the contrary. We've often discussed whether or not to go public with our relationship. Buchou and I are against it, Syuusuke is for it, and Keigo and Genchirou keep silent.

_Buchou was very firm with the matter. "World opinion won't tolerate us."_

"Yeah?" Syuusuke raised one fine eyebrow in silent challenge. "Look at Hitler, world opinion tolerated him for a long time."

"Hitler is a one-ball wonder," I snapped and Genchirou choked on his tea. "We're a five-man orgy in a serious relationship."

Syuusuke just smirked. "So I guess, owing to our lack of frustration for having complete equipment, that makes us bigger psychos?"

I glared at him before turning back to my homework. "Speak for yourself, Syuusuke."

It's not that I'm ashamed of being a player in this anomalous type of relationship. My adamant refusal actually stems not from fear of public opinion, but fear of parental units. Oyaji doesn't care if I do guys or goats but if he gets word that his son is playing bottom boy for not one, not two, not three, but _four_ boys, then blazing fumes of hellfire would arrive at each of my boyfriend's doorsteps, neatly wrapped in a hand basket. You know, it just might be worth telling him about us just to see him attempt to bring down the apocalypse --especially when he deals with Keigo and Syuusuke. Now _that_ would be a historical moment.

But then I remembered how much worse it's gonna get for me. Oyaji'd probably send me off on a permanent vacation in a remote Playboy Igloo in Alaska or something. So yeah, I'm against going public.

Buchou's parents are also kept in the dark. Sure they're generally accepting, polite and mild-mannered people but I think that once they discover their respectable son's unusual... mating habits, they'll start making another baby.

Keigo, Syuusuke and Genchirou's parents have nothing particularly panic-worthy to say. Monkey King's parents simply think we're his future business partners. As to what type of business he is referring to, I don't know. Meat-packing maybe? But from what I've gathered from Keigo's description of his parents, I doubt they'd care much about Keigo's choice of sexual practices as long as he's making the family business flourish.

Syuusuke's family (save Yuuta, who had heard many a traumatizing tale of our exploits and had hightailed it out of Japan ASAP) thinks we're select models, which isn't far from the truth-- we really are common subjects in front of Syuusuke's camera, just not in the... conventional way. And even if they did know about their eldest son's little secret, I don't think they'd care that much. The Fuji family is one of the most liberated bunch of people I know. Hey, if they (with the exception of Syuusuke) allowed Yuuta to romp with _Mizuki_ abroad, then Syuusuke's affair with four, talented, good-looking men shouldn't be much of a problem.

Genchirou's parents think we're another boyband. Yeah, his stint at the Junior Senbatsu camp must've made its way to his household. That is probably the tamest of all assumptions but it sucks whenever we're asked to sing every time we're in Genchirou's house. Syuusuke thinks it's funny. Keigo is only too glad to exhibit his entire diva finery to the Sanada household. Buchou just shrugs and gets with the program. I scowl and try to hide behind my more vertically-gifted boyfriends and end up being asked to sing solo English songs. Again, like Keigo, Genchirou's family doesn't have a particular stand, but to be on the safe side, we just keep it secret.

Unless of course, polite society will be revamped overnight and orgy-type relationships become as common as coconuts in Hawaii. But until that day comes, we're lying low.

Anyway, that's our story. And now, I go back to my rights.

I like to keep things simple. So in this relationship, no matter how convoluted its mechanics are, I've narrowed it down to a simple set-up based on, well... our respective sexual appetites. What, did you honestly think I'm banking on a psychological, structural-functional construct or something? Sorry, but that's Syuusuke's department.

Anyway, after much thought-processes and experimental positioning on specific wild nights, I have come up with three divisions in our relationship. The first division has Monkey King and Syuusuke, the opportunistic satyriasis-stricken forerunners of the physical side of the relationship. I believe that speaks for itself and as such needs no explanation.

The second division has Buchou and Genchirou, who, being more frigid than the iceberg that made Titanic famous, work as a countermeasure to the first division. In simple terms, they're the party for damage control. This is not to say that they don't like sex, they do, but it will take some strategic button-pushing for them to give in, especially if there are other pressing matters such as deadlines and early morning training as competition.

However, while we are aware of which buttons to push, the question lies on whether we collectively decide to push said buttons... meaning if the rest of us, Keigo, Syuusuke and I pressure them into submitting. For some reason, Buchou and Genchirou always give in, when the three of us want to. But in most cases, it comes to a point of needing a tie breaker. And guess who usually ends up deciding our bedroom fates?

Uh-huh. Yours truly. The third division. The one who tips the scales. The wild card.

Sometimes, when I've imbibed my fair share of Grape ponta, I'm more than a little eager for a five-way bedroom pow-wow, yes, even though I know I'll be waking up with the inability to park my butt comfortably on any surface the following morning. I know I complain about being uke, but you forget, I'm a guy, and fifteen minutes under the expert hands and lips of my boyfriends are enough to fry my brain into conveniently forgetting about that minor detail.

However, there are also times when I shirk away from the mere mention of the S-word, especially when it involves the use of objects that I don't even want to know about. I mean, who the hell has heard of wasabi-flavored lubricant anyway? Oh right, Syuusuke did. And I guess that means, by association, the rest of us did too. Perhaps the more appropriate wording would be, who's the sicko who invented the damn thing anyway? If he's dead, good. If he's alive, better because Monkey King and I can have the pleasure of hunting him down and giving him a second circumcision.

Anyway, the point is, I swing both ways. What I say goes. So given that obvious power at my disposal, why am I still not satisfied?

It's because even if I decide what to do, I don't decide who to _be._ And that sucks like hell. I don't think they realize that our rapidly diminishing sex-life depends on ME for salvation. Not that it would do me a damn bit of good if they did, but I can dream.

But still... where's the justice in that? I _hold_ the balls in this relationship. Well, the sex part... but we all know how important _that_ is.

So, all things considered, I should be seme, or at least get the chance to be one. I should get a chance to go medieval on some ass every once in a while.

I should, you know. But 'should' never gets anybody anywhere. So I guess it all boils down to the brilliant conclusion that...

Life is fucking _unfair_. 

tbc

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A/N:: is tired : There is nothing more aggravating than writing one fic while your muses decide to swoop down on another plotbunny. GRRR. Next chapter will have less monologues, more dialogues, and spotlights on the rest of the OT5. I actually had half the second chapter written before realizing that I haven't written this first chapter yet. Haha.

IN case anyone doesn't know, Adolf Hitler is mon-orchid (spelling?) meaning he has only ONE testicle. 0.o The things I learn in history class.

Thanks goes to arcticdragon for betaing.


	2. Chapter 2: Room Service

**Chapter 2: Room Service**

Fuji>

Behold the Taoism of Orgydom: Whoever controls sex, controls the relationship.

Ryoma is the master of booty bargaining. And I admit it freely.

Ryoma likes to think of himself as the wild card of this convoluted relationship of ours. He thrives on unpredictability, and finds a certain pleasure in keeping the rest of us on our toes. It's pretty much similar to the way he plays tennis—just the right blend of mischief and mystery to suck you in, making you believe you're winning and when you realize that he's totally playing with you, it's too late.

To a certain extent, Ryoma does have control over the course of our sexual activities. If I am to compare our relationship to a scientific experiment, I could say that Ryoma is the control variable, the rest of us are constants, and Keigo's gigantic bedroom is the experimental set-up.

But as all scientific processes go, control variables act according to how they are manipulated. In this case, the control issue is a circular process, because the controller and the controlled serve mutual purposes. Ryoma calls the shots, but we, his senpais, are the ones who influence him to make said shots.

And usually, it is a battle of Keigo and I versus Genchirou and Kunimitsu that decides our libidinous fates.

As elusive as Ryoma gets, he cannot evade our grasps forever. It takes patience and a well-devised underhanded set-up to be able to accurately manipulate Ryoma without him realizing it but the reward is always well worth the risk.

And modesty aside, I'm not exactly called a genius for nothing—and underhanded goes a long way with me. According to most tennis articles in junior high and high school, Fuji Syuusuke is "a genius, a mysterious, wily, subtle and calculating player whose smiling face makes it impossible for anyone to gauge his true abilities."

_When I showed the magazine that bore those particular words to my lovers, Ryoma immediately snorted and snatched it from my grasp._

"You are also sadistic, sneaky, conniving and opportunistic," Ryoma added, as his eyes skimmed the rest of the article. "And those are your good points."

Tezuka nodded, looking almost proud of him. Genchirou sipped his tea much faster. Keigo hid his smirk behind his hand. I could almost hear a voice keeping score.

Love- 15 in favor of Ryoma.

I smiled at Ryoma's typical sweetness and turned over the magazine to his own profile page. It showed a very swoon-worthy shot of Ryoma doing the cyclone smash with his shirt and shorts both riding up so high, it's almost non-worksafe, but the fans madly appreciate it. The article said: "Echizen Ryoma, son of the legendary tennis hero 'Samurai' Echizen Nanjiroh, is a tennis prodigy whose professional-level tennis skills, cocksure smile and unparalleled confidence earned him the fan-title of 'the prince of tennis.'"

I watched him read the article for a few more seconds before speaking. "You are also a snarky brat whose guttural grunts and shouts serve as effective aphrodisiacs to anyone with a normal-sized libido and as such would make it impossible for anyone to play you without developing a tent in his shorts," I casually asserted, watching as the snide expression from Ryoma's face dropped and transfered to mine. "And those are your most attractive points."

15 all. 

It's true though. Ryoma's noises in the tennis courts are similar to his noises inside the bedroom. Every tennis match is like live radio porn. Keigo openly agrees with me and I know Kunimitsu and Genchirou do too, only they won't admit it.

When I told Ryoma about it, his succeeding tennis matches became unsurprisingly quieter. However, according to Inui's data, Ryoma compensated for his lack of vocal plays with a 9.78 increase in the strength of his serves, a 6.98 increase in the speed of his returns, and an overwhelming 58 increase in his opponents' uttered profanities.

Going back to the present though, we come to another start of a decisive battle.

Currently, it's a Friday night and I'm sitting on the magnificent Persian carpet of Keigo's massive bedroom, observing a brownie Inui gave me for testing a while ago. Keigo is on the phone, discussing stock acquisitions with his corporate lackeys. Kunimitsu is reading another book. Genchirou is amusing himself with his recent discovery of the SIMS on Keigo's laptop.

Ryoma isn't here yet since he has a night class during Fridays. Normally, I'd wait for him in the university but I had to take care of some things… for tonight's endeavor.

"Syuusuke."

I look up and find Kunimitsu frowning at me—or at the brownie I'm holding, to be more precise. "Yes?"

He puts down his book and leans forward slightly to get a better look. "Is that what I think it is?"

I shrug. "Depends on what you think it is."

"Syuusuke." Kunimitsu's voice is much firmer now and I suppress a chuckle. "Is that marijuana?"

That gets Keigo and Genchirou's attention. Genchirou pauses his game, and turns around to stare at us, his normally stoic expression cracking just enough to show his surprise. Keigo doesn't get off the phone, but his narrowed eyes are looking pointedly at me.

I lick my lips, which is Keigo's and my silent code for "I have a plan." When Keigo's skepticism remains, I casually ran a hand through my hair.

Which is our code for "I swear to all things good and holy that I know what I'm doing. Don't worry."

That seems to mollify Keigo a bit but he keeps his eyes trained in our direction for good measure. I really can't blame him for his suspicions. Keigo and I may agree on most things regarding our relationship but anything overtly illegal is a touchy subject for him, especially when taking into context his future plans for participation in Japan politics. He aims to be prime minister of Japan in his early thirties, and marijuana has serious legal issues that may jeopardize his future career. So I have to go over this very carefully.

I turn my attention back to Kunimitsu. "Saa, I don't know," I answer lightly, ignoring my russet-haired boyfriend's growing exasperation. "It looks like a brownie to me."

"Fuji Syuusuke." Kunimitsu's voice drops all pretension so I too, drop my own calm façade for a smirk. "Is that a marijuana brownie?"

I feel Keigo's and Genchirou's eyes boring into my head and I exhale slowly. Time to stop beating around the bush. "Yeah," I finally admit, giving the brownie a light poke. "At least I think that's what it is. I really can't be sure now. Inui has been experimenting with it."

"Inui!"

I nod, ignoring Genchirou and Kunimitsu's identical expressions of almost-noticeable disbelief. "And he wants me to test it out."

"Syuusuke."

You'd think with the way Kunimitsu calls me four times in one minute, it would seem that he loves my name so much, but then you'd be thinking wrong. "What?"

"You do know that drugs are illegal."

"I suppose so."

"Then you should be throwing that thing away."

"Saa… but I owe Inui a favor," I explain, refusing to budge. "Besides, it's not like you're gonna have me arrested."

"Syuusuke…"

"Come on Kunimitsu," I chide almost playfully. "I'm not hurting anyone." _Yet._

Kunimitsu's face remains stern for a few more seconds before a resigned look takes over. "Fine," he says, picking up his book again. "But don't eat it here."

"Maa… " I smile inwardly, relieved with Kunimitsu's acquiescence. Not that it would matter if he refused anyway. "Alright."

We resume our activities prior to the impromptu round of questioning. Kunimitsu goes back to reading, Keigo goes back to discussing business agendas and Genchirou continues building his virtual family. And me? I leisurely lean back against a silver bean bag, formulating my plans for this illegal pastry in my possession.

After ten minutes of monotony, I decide to break the silence.

"Ne, Kunimitsu," I start, still looking at the neatly wrapped brownie in my hand. "What's the betting you won't be looking at that book anymore ten minutes after Ryoma gets home?"

"You are not getting me to eat that," he declares flatly, not looking up from his book.

I chuckle, not at all surprised. "Saa… you have a suspicious little mind, Kunimitsu."

"I'd prefer to call it common sense."

"Hmm. But honestly, I wasn't planning to do what you thought I was planning to do."

"Right." He glances up briefly. "That unnerving smile on your face just doesn't give it away."

The smile he is accusing me of becomes one-sided. "Saa.. Sarcasm doesn't become you."

"Looking harmless doesn't become you."

This is all too amusing. Banter with Kunimitsu isn't as biting as banter with Ryoma, or as filled with innuendo as banter with Keigo, but it is pleasurable entertainment nonetheless. "Seriously, this isn't about the brownie, Kunimitsu," I hedge, setting the brownie beside me. "As you well know, I prefer a healthier and much more legal form of addiction…" I raise my eyebrows suggestively to emphasize my point.

Tezuka gets the message immediately. "Oh no, you are NOT," he says firmly. "Not tonight, Syuusuke. Ryoma has a match tomorrow morning. He cannot afford to be… partially indisposed. "

"Maa… " I tilt my head sideways, feigning thought. "Then maybe you and Genchirou can skip your turn with him."

"I think not," Genchirou calls out, eyes still riveted to the TV screen.

I chuckle at that, and Keigo actually puts his call on hold to make a remark. "The gaki's gonna be alright," he says, half-smiling. "He gets through the match, pain or no pain." Then he goes back to his call.

Kunimitsu however, will have none of it. "He almost lost the last time," he argues.

"But that was _your_ fault," I remind him. "I was only kidding about the round two bit."

Kunimitsu's eyes narrow slightly. More points for me. "You deliberately spiked my tea."

I smile my closed-eyed smile at him, knowing how much he hates it. "I have no idea what you're talking about," I lie easily. I so love getting a rise out of this man.

Kunimitsu opens his mouth to respond, but the door suddenly opens and a grumpy-looking Ryoma walks in. He kicks off his shoes, slams the door behind him and throws his bag on the floor before sauntering over towards us.

"Good evening to you too, Ryoma," Keigo greets, apparently finished with his call.

"Monkey King, don't put that phone down," Ryoma orders, removing his jacket. "Get me some room service." He then proceeds to take off his shirt and toss it in a nearby hamper. "I'm hungry."

Is it just me, or should Ryoma never say things like that when he's stripping?

"Is that so?" Keigo murmurs, lifting the phone from the handset again. Now, under normal circumstances, Keigo would sooner dye his hair pink than take orders from Ryoma or ANYONE for that matter, but Keigo finds Ryoma's unconscious attempt to imitate him highly entertaining. Not that the sight of Ryoma taking off his pants helps in any way. No, not at all. It's also just a startling coincidence that Kunimitsu just put down his book (for the last time this evening, I tell you) and Genchirou just turned off the SIMS game completely.

"Yeah." Ryoma, now only donned in a pair of black boxers and socks, disappears into Keigo's gigantic closet for a shirt. "Oh and make it something heavy. I'm in the mood for meat."

Ryoma really _really_ shouldn't be saying things like that when he's stripping.

Kunimitsu stands up abruptly. "Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom."

I raise an eyebrow at this, surprised, but nonetheless pleased. Kunimitsu, leaving Ryoma unguarded right after our recent discussion? Unreal. What bathroom activity could be so important as to merit such carelessness?

Whatever. A golden gate with singing cherubs is presented before me and I have to be a retard not to take it. I wait until Kunimitsu has closed the door before picking up the brownie again.

I keep my promises. I told Kunimitsu _I_ wouldn't eat the brownie didn't I?

So… hungry, Ryoma?

Tezuka>

Cold water on my face makes me feel less like a hypocrite.

Fuji>

Ryoma makes for a very interesting drunk. Or druggie in this case. Many people drink to make themselves interesting. I drink to make people interesting. But this isn't about drinks or me, this is about Ryoma and spiked crack.

Ryoma has this adorable tendency of covering up for his obviously drunk or "high" statements with his logical follow-ups, which all told, are indeed… logical, although in a twisted, incomprehensible way. I'm not complaining, it usually proves to be to our advantage anyway. Well, mine and Keigo's. Kunimitsu and Genchirou still have their issues.

Kunimitsu conveniently chooses this time to come back from the bathroom. Upon reaching us, he immediately notices something missing.

"Syuusuke."

"What?"

"Where's the brownie?"

I smile cheerfully and point to Ryoma who seems to have swallowed the last bit of the brownie. "Ryoma ate it."

The look on Kunimitsu's face is such a Kodak moment. Where is my camera when I need it? "The whole thing?"

"It's just a small piece," Ryoma answers for me, seemingly missing Kunimitsu's non-stoic expression. "It tasted funny though." He licks his lips and blinks. "Is that some new organic product for dieters or something?"

"Ryoma." Genchirou walks over towards us, his expression no different from Kunimitsu's. "How do you feel?"

Another blink. "Fine."

"You just ate a marijuana brownie," Kunimitsu informs him, looking pointedly at me. Ooh. Scary. "A large dose."

"I did?"

"A marijuana brownie with Inui concoctions injected in it," Genchirou adds.

"INUI concoctions?" Apart from the slight rise in his voice and the slight bulge in his eyes, there is no other sign of Ryoma's dismay. Under normal circumstances, that would be an irregularity of immense proportions but that must be the drugs taking place now.

Oh Kunimitsu, you make things so _easy…_

Keigo sits next to Ryoma, one arm readily snaking around the boy's waist. "That's what happens when you're so used to putting random things in your mouth," he asserts, smirking. It must be noted that he never called for room service. Smart move, Keigo. Genchirou throws him a dirty look and I couldn't suppress a small laugh.

Now you know where Ryoma's subconscious picks up the innuendos.

"Che." Apparently, Ryoma doesn't understand the complexities of the situation. Which is good. Very good. "How was I supposed to know?"

"You weren't," Kunimitsu answers curtly, still glaring at me. He really should stop staring me down like that, his facial muscles may cramp.

"Haaah?"

I smile again. Can't stop smiling actually. Good, Ryoma's reactions are getting more brainless by the second. If what Inui told me is correct then it wouldn't be long before I win this round.

"Ryoma." Kunimitsu kneels down at Ryoma's eye level and grasps his shoulders. "You're drugged." He says this with an unusual level of urgency, giving Ryoma's shoulders a slight shake.

"Oh really?" Ryoma's expression is difficult to read, as if his brain is having a difficult time appropriating a suitable reaction. Not that it would matter much. Just a few seconds more…

The four of us watch his changing expression, each with varying levels of anticipation. Then finally, Ryoma does something we've never seen him do.

He _giggles._ He _never_ giggles. He laughs (hahaha) or snickers (hehehe), but he never giggles (heeheehee). And while Keigo and I find it adorable, it would seem that Genchirou and Kunimitsu find it very disturbing, if those incredulous wide-eyed looks on their faces is any indication.

My smile grows wider.

Inui is a god.

Ryoma>

Why is the world spinning? Why am I laughing? Did someone say something funny? Why is Buchou looking at Syuusuke like he's gonna disembowel him with a wooden spoon or something? Oh… I feel so so light. Is this what they call sugar high? But the brownie wasn't that sweet.

Speaking of high, I feel like…

"Senpai-tachi… I'm floating."

Fuji>

Ah. There goes Ryoma's "high" statement. I wonder how he'll rationalize that.

Atobe>

The brat thinks he's floating. This should be interesting.

Tezuka>

Ryoma thinks he's floating. Syuusuke, you bastard.

Sanada>

… He took drugs. He thinks he's floating. Oh god.

Ryoma>

I'm floating.

Wait a minute, I can't keep floating. What if I float all the way out the window and into the sky and into the moon and I couldn't stop and then I'll suddenly stop and fall and smash on the sidewalk and never play tennis again because I'm gonna be dead and—

Damn, my mind sounds like that Fudoumine guy who nearly ripped my eye off in a match.

I can't keep floating. Senpai-tachi help me.

"I can't keep floating."

They all just look at me. What, are they blind or something? I'm floating goddamit, someone's gotta pin me down.

"Someone has to sleep on top of me."

Tezuka>

Oh no.

Atobe>

Oh yes.

Sanada>

Oh god.

Fuji>

Oh _Ryoma…_

Ryoma>

Monkey King and Syuusuke are smiling. Oh good, they're coming to my rescue. Buchou and Genchirou too, although they're not looking too eager. Well, if Syuusuke and Keigo have something to say about it, they're not gonna stay like that for long.

Monkey King's kissing me now. Syuusuke seems to have his own tongue in Genchirou's mouth and his hands are… well, multi-tasking on someplace on someone. Buchou looks like he's trying to get out, but someone pulls him back. Oh that was me.

But hey wait… I didn't tell them to molest me, I just told them to sleep on top of—

Oh.

_OH._

Oh well.

xxxxTBCxxxx

* * *

A/N: Literal crack. Heh. And the TezuFuji, oh man, isn't it obvious how much I _adore_ it::leer: Next chapter will be Tezuka's spotlight. Hee. Here be sneak preview:

xxx PREVIEW xxx

"But Buchou, what if my professor asks me 'What is Philosophy?' How will I answer that?"

"He won't. Your professor can't expect you to answer that question completely."

"Why not?"

"Because philosophy is a big thing, Ryoma. People like Aristotle, Rene Descartes and Socrates spent their whole lives pondering that question but not once did they succeed in answering it completely. Philosophy is something that cannot be encapsulated within words. It's like an asymptote, you get closer and closer but you never really quite get there."

"Asymptotes? You're comparing Philosophy to math?"

"Why, do you have anything else in particular to use as an example?"

"Er… no but—"

"How about sex?"

"Sex. Right. Alright, Ryoma, Syuusuke said sex. Let's see..."

"Kunimitsu, you aren't seriously thinking about analogizing philosophy with sex… are you?"

"I'm serious Genchirou. Philosophy as a body of knowledge is relevant to almost anything within a human context."

"So how…?"

"Ah. I got it."

"You do?"

"Yes. Alright Ryoma, for that question, imagine having sex with…"

xxx END PREVIEW xxx


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